Disproportion
by Evil Towel
Summary: A pre-Chapter Black story. Rating for bad words and blood. Mitarai's never belonged anywhere-yet with the Seven, he may just find a reason to keep on going. Focused on Mitarai Kiyoshi; slight HagiriMitarai. First in the Dedication series.


((Everybody interested in the Writer/Reader Reversal, please see our bio.))

This fiction is the first in a series titled, Dedication. The sequel is named Distortion, and will be up shortly.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to YYH, except the ideas and dreams that fly in my head and out of my fingers.**

This work is dedicated to a friend of the name, mind, and soul--with her, I've found a place where I truly belong. Happy birthday, Arashi-chan. This one's all for you.

**Disproportion **

_What a day. _The sun had long since set, and Kiyoshi Mitaraiwas only just heading home. _First school—I swear, they find more ways to tease me everyday. _Mitarai _hated_ school—he was always picked on by the rest of his classmates. Even the teachers were no help anymore. He supposed they were getting tired of defending him. _Not that I blame them, I guess—I'd get tired of defending myself, too...if I knew how, that is. _Maybe that was the reason he'd agreed to help Mr. Sensui; if these so-called demons came, maybe the bullies would get a taste of their own medicine. Then they'd know how it felt to be helpless. They deserved it, anyway. All of mankind did. He supposed he'd only gotten the tip of the iceberg when it came to pain, but it still hurt so much...

_We all deserve to die._

After school, there'd been another meeting with Mr. Sensui and the rest of the team (he never thought serving justice would be so difficult!). The meetings were kind of fun, especially since they weren't watching that tape anymore. There was a bit of laughter, and joking around, the usual questions on "How was your day?" that were only searching for some common ground to talk about. Nothing involving the supernatural—well, except for Hagiri scaring the life out of Makihara with a marble. That was funny.

No practicing for Makihara—Kamiya got enough practice at work—Mr. Itsuki didn't _need _to practice, it seemed—they never saw anything Mr. Sensui could do—Hagiri could fire marbles into the wall all he wanted—for some reason, Mr. Sensui seemed really reluctant to let Amanuma do anything more than play video games. "No fun at all," Amanuma kept pouting, even when he was beating Mitarai at Goblin City. Mitarai thought he was lucky—they all were. None of them had to physically hurt themselves to bring forth their Territories. Whenever he had to cut himself, he was reminded so clearly of the images on that tape—the screams of the people in horrendous pain and not allowed to die...it scared him. Was he...just like them? Hurting but unable to do anything about it? Or was he on the other side—the person causing the pain?

Whichever side he was on, he didn't like it. But how could he stop it? How could he stop the pain all around the world, the pain that it was human nature to create?

_Might as well try to stop the sun from setting, _he scoffed, kicking at a stone that nearly tripped him, _I'm on the right side. We all deserve to die—for being humans. And someday, we will._

He stopped, light catching his eye. Too bright for night—what could it be? Was somebody having a...a party or something?

His feet took him in that direction anyway; his apartment was there. With his family. Near the bright light. Actually, the light seemed to be coming from there—

He turned the corner and stopped.

_No—_

Flames licked the sides of the surrounding buildings, eager to consume them like the one it was already eating. Hot light rose into the sky from the burning building in the middle. Screams mingled with the smoke and he realized that his home was on _fire._

And he knew those screaming voices, the ones that mingled with the smoke, ash, soot, burning flesh—

Flesh?

"Stay back, kid!" Somebody reached out and pulled him back. He didn't even know he'd moved forwards. "Are you trying to kill yourself by going in there?" Mitarai didn't answer. All he could do was stare at the burned skin on his palm where he'd connected with the doorknob on the first floor. His family was in there...and he was out here...oh, gods, his _family_—

He trembled, uncontrollably, clenching his burned hand tightly in a fist and ignoring the hot tears that were spreading down his cheeks. His _family_—

"Kid?" The man who'd pulled him away looked concerned. "You okay?"

"Family—"

"What!?"

"I CAN'T TAKE THIS!" Screaming, he pushed the man away from him and pelted off down the street, unable to stand the sounds of his own family dying echoing in his ears. He ran until he thought his heart would burst, lungs heaving for air as he finally stopped in an alleyway. He slumped against the wall and finally slid down it to bury his face in his knees.

_I ran—I actually ran away from them. They were _dying_ and I ran. I left them to die in the flames—_the tears came, harder and hotter with shame and guilt as he sobbed, rocking slowly back and forth on his heels.

_What kind of a person am I? I can't stand pain—seeing anybody in pain—and yet when they need me, I abandon them. Too scared to save them...too scared to save myself...I'm a big, fat coward who as good as murdered his family. That's what I am. A murderer._

_I'm just like those people on the tape—_

"Well looky who we have here, boys." He looked up to see the light from the street blocked by a particularly large man. More crowded the entrance from the street. "Looks like some little rat crawled into our territory." Territory? But he hadn't—Mitarai scrambled to his feet, using the wall behind him as leverage.

"Please, sir," he said, eyes red with crying searching frantically for an exit, "I didn't know this was your Territory, honest, I'll leave—"

"Not so fast, there." He screamed as another man emerged from a hidden door right behind him, a scream that was quickly choked off as the cold steel of a gun met with the side of his head.

"It's nothing personal, you understand," said the first man, taking a few slow steps forwards, "We just can't let you leave so peacefully—after all, what _would_ that say for our reputation?" Mitarai's breath caught in his throat as he trembled in fear. He couldn't fight back—even if there hadn't been a gun at his temple he'd never fought in his life. And Mr. Sensui specifically told them not to use their powers unless he instructed them to... "Of course, since we're living up our rep we might as well have a little fun doing it, eh boys?" Jeers and catcalls of agreement sounded from the rest of his gang as he moved towards the shaking boy, fist held threatingly against his palm...

..::--::..

"_Hurry it up, we gotta return the car before my uncle finds out!"_

"_Ah, shit! He bled all over the blanket!"_

"_That's why we give 'im the blanket, genius, so he doesn't ruin the car!"_

"_Gee, you're so smart boss—"_

"_Just shut up and dump him in the cave already."_

_Drip. Dr_ip. Drip.

A bloodied foot stepped in another puddle, bone meeting water as the liquid turned to a pale pink. He cursed with pain and pulled his foot out, ignoring the new dozen little monsters who'd spawned from the mixture of blood and water.

It didn't hurt so much, his foot. Not when every other nerve of his body was alive with fiery pain, pain so intense it was all he could do not to black out.

He had to keep going. Just a bit further...did he turn left here? Or right? Did he turn at all? He didn't remember—

"Mitarai?" So...dizzy...he forced his head up, away from the ground and all his blood-spawned monsters to see a blurry figure just ahead of him, and coming ever closer.

"Mr. Sensui...?" He gasped, through a throat hoarse with screaming. "I'm sorry to bother you..." He never finished the sentence as his body finally gave in, monsters dissipating as he hit the floor in unconsciousness' gentle embrace.

..::--::..

"Mitarai!?"

"Shit, what happened?"

"Who did this?!" Three pairs of eyes stared horrified down at their companion, locked in a restless sleep. Blood was everywhere; his arms, his legs, his chest, his head, Kamiya's hands as he worked to save him.

"Who did this to him?" Hagiri repeated, angry purple eyes shifting to Sensui, "**WHO?**"

"Calm yourself, Hagiri." Sensui's attention was focused entirely on Kamiya and his work. "Mitarai'll be just fine."

"What the hell happened?" Makihara repeated.

"We're not entirely sure," Itsuki explained. "Mr. Sensui found him halfway inside the cave. My guess is somebody beat him up, and badly."

"Well, _duh_." Amanuma rolled his eyes. "Anyone with eyes could see that!"

"We'll have to ask him when he wakes up," Itsuki finished. "Until then, we can only guess."

"You see, boys." Sensui's low voice penetrated their thoughts without making them alarmed enough to turn. "This is some of mankind's cruelest work. Look how they beat your friend—look at him now, bloodied, senseless. No reason for it—just a spur-of-the-moment, beat-up-the-weaker-person game. What did he do to them? Nothing, and yet did they care?

"This is why we work, boys. The demons that tunnel unleashes will solve problems like these once and for all. Only then will we ever be able to justify what has been done to the world—what has been done to us. To Mitarai.

"Together, we shall make them pay."

And Mitarai, grasping just a few seconds of wakefulness, heard those words, and smiled.

Here was home.

Here was family.

Here he belonged.

And that was all that mattered.

..::Owari::..


End file.
